


My Religion

by BelleRed20



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, The 100 (TV) Season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleRed20/pseuds/BelleRed20
Summary: Bellamy survives!  Clarke deserved more than the finale. *grumbles* Season 7 re-write. One last lifetime on Earth. But are they finally together?Clarke slowly opened her eyes, “Bellamy?” she whispered squinting up into his face. She grumbled low, “Great, now I know I’m dead if you are here” she replied sarcastically. He chuckled lightly to himself. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I am not dead. You are not dead” he replied back convincingly. Bellamy was touching her face gently with the back of his fingertips.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	My Religion

Brooding. Bellamy was absolutely-undeniably- beyond any shadow of a doubt; brooding. He didn't want to alert the others of his presence so he kept as much distance away from their base camp as he could. Why give them any indication, any tiny shred of gratification, even the slightest bit of satisfaction knowing that he was still alive? He was still upset with all of them, beyond frustrated. Bellamy was breathing the same air they were. His feet were standing on the same solid ground theirs were. They were all staring up at the same bluest of blue skies above. He lifted his head towards the sky and took a deep breath in. When he was given the choice of transcendence, well; that was a little bit more complicated of a choice. When he was pressed for an answer, he chose not to transcend. The reason why was the main issue of contention Bellamy was dealing with. Why would he willingly go back to the same people that didn’t trust him before? Why would he put himself through that pain again? Deep down he knew the reason. It was solely based around one person and one person only; for her. 

A full week had passed. None of his friends and family on planet Earth had any knowledge that he was actually there. Bellamy was almost too good at this. Hiding out. Surviving on his own. But, in all fairness he wasn’t really alone at all. He just couldn’t confront them, wasn't sure what he would say. Bellamy couldn’t cross that threshold and face the people who willingly chose not to put their faith in him; nor believe what he knew to be true. He needed some time spent away from everyone. To clear his mind or his conscience, he wasn’t sure. He just needed to be alone for a while. Yes, he was definitely brooding. Brooding was his middle name. Bellamy Brooding Blake. Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

He was currently sitting atop a wooden platform; a tree stand of sorts, constructed with his own hands out of cedar wood. He was dressed head to toe in dark camouflage, not wanting to risk the chance of being seen. This was the perfect place to sit and wait for his daily sighting. To be honest, his chest cavity was going numb from laying on this platform, but like any skilled trophy hunter he was patient, quiet, and razor focused. Clarke would walk to this clearing every afternoon. For a solid week he waited for her and like absolute clockwork she would show up. Bellamy remained deathly still. He didn’t dare move a muscle. She would come here to sit cross legged on the rocks for hours at a time. If she needed mental serenity; this was the perfect spot. For all the years he spent on Earth, he had finally taken the time to realize what being on the ground truly meant. It was the reason this decision was so clear to him. He wouldn’t be separated from her; she was the reason. Not again. Never again. Through pain comes clarity. 

Clarke was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. That gorgeously pale skin, her golden locks of hair, and that gracious yet stubbornly angled chin. He keeps a mental record of the amount of times she blinks, sniffles, and sighs. Whether it’s to clear her own mind or conscious, is uncertain. But one day he hears his name leave her mouth and from then on he comes back to this exact spot to hear more day after day. Like a moth to a flame. Bellamy listens to her share her most intimate secrets with him. She divulges some of the reasons of where it all went wrong. Only this time she is not talking to him through a walkie talkie. She speaks to him as if he can’t really hear her. And sadly, she speaks to him as if he will not be returning to her. She thinks he is dead. Clarke believes she killed him. Bellamy wants nothing more than to reach out and touch her. He is an absolute coward for hiding. But he just cannot handle anything else burdening his emotions and heart. Bellamy just needs to figure out why? He needs time to heal. Time to think. Time to breathe. 

To be fair, she picked an absolutely stunning area to bare her soul. Funny how they both chose this particular spot on Earth to share. The water is clear. The air is crisp. The trees are greener than he’s ever seen. Some days Clarke just silently stares blankly ahead but other days she speaks to him angrily. Today is one of those days. “Why did you have to see her notebook, Bellamy?” she rubs her hands down the front of her shaky thighs. She has an anxiety ridden leg bounce that was starting to make him even a little crazy “You know that Madi was my whole world, I had to do what I had to do!” Clarke stated regretfully, “God, why did I have to do what I had to do?” she reprimanded herself with confusion and sadness laced in her voice.  
Most days Clarke tries to explain her actions to him. But little did she know he could hear every ruminating, terrified, soft spoken, and agonizing word.  
“But you were right all along Bellamy. I should have trusted you. Why didn’t I just trust you?” she questions herself. Clarke was being particularly cruel to herself today. “Yes, why didn’t you?” Bellamy whispers to himself. He knows she has trust issues. He knows she struggled to believe. She was so lost. Bellamy doesn’t blame her, he was so desperate for salvation himself. His salvation was Clarke. This feels good Bellamy thinks to himself, like couples therapy without the therapist. He feels like he is finally making some headway. He is not even beside her; well not yet anyway. But this is helping him understand how she was feeling leading up to that crucial moment. 

“Everyone down here has their person Bellamy” Clarke continues. “All I want.. is to take back that horrible day, I would have never...I’m just so…sorry” Clarke trails off. Her forehead crinkles in visible agony. Bellamy knows Clarke cannot live with her actions, she finds no solace here on Earth even surrounded by her closest friends. She has no peace. So she walks to this spot every day to purge her inner demons, once again, talking to him. Only this time it’s different. She is lonely and afraid in these woods and forced to face the reality she has created for herself. The reality of a life without him in it. A life without her partner. Her teammate. Her solid ground. 

Bellamy can hear Clarke shifting the rocks between her feet. “Now, I’m left here, to live out my days on this god forsaken planet. I’m always stuck here without you Bellamy. How do I keep doing this to myself?” Bellamy can see Clarke put her head in her hands. “All I can think about is you. I just want to see you again” Clarke whimpers. Bellamy can see Clarke is holding back unshed tears, biting her lip hard enough to leave a visible mark. He knows this is being downright selfish. He knows this is wrong on so many levels, watching her from afar like this. But he wants her to fully understand the gravity of her choice. She shot him. A sacrifice she was more than willing to make. He would like to echo her own words she spit back in his face, “You’ve made your choice.” Clarke made her choice. It was the wrong one. But it was a choice SHE made. She needed to live with the repercussions, if only for a little while. She needed to feel that choice in its entirety. 

The absolute kicker was that Bellamy was the one who was right. Whether they wanted to believe him or not. Transcendence was real. Transcendence was not imaginary. Transcended beings were at peace, they will never feel pain, and will never die. Three things Bellamy willingly gave up to find his way back to Clarke. Unbeknownst to the rest of them, Clarke’s intended bullet missed his heart by only a hair of a fraction. She didn’t have enough time to kill all the disciples in the room before entering the anomaly, and one of them thankfully ended up saving his life. He remembers someone dragging him by his arms to safety.They had to operate fast to extract the bullet. Bellamy remembers none of it, all he remembers is seeing the image of her before he passed out. He awoke bandaged, bruised, and sore- but alive. 

The searing pain Bellamy felt throughout his rib-cage was nothing in comparison to what he felt in his broken heart. To be completely honest Bellamy still couldn’t blame her for shooting him. He didn’t have any room left in his mangled heart for anymore hatred. It was the wake-up call that he needed. He was blinded by Cadogan and that bullet cleared his vision of everything; everything but her. He didn’t feel a thing as it sliced through his flesh. Even to this day Bellamy was full of rage and contempt, but he knows below the surface Clarke is worth every ounce of pain. He would do anything for her, even take an unintended bullet. She was his better half. The head to his heart; a heart that was still annoyingly and furiously beating for her. He knew Clarke better than anyone. He knew she was broken and numb from everything she had gone through, quite like himself. She had lost her faith in everything around her. Bellamy also knew Clarke was only human. Humans make mistakes. But we can learn from them. She made him want to do better. Be a better man. Live a better life. Love…even better. 

She was the guiding light that kept him grounded for years. She was his religion in so many ways. He worshiped the ground she walked on. He had always been self-sacrificing, endlessly entrusting, and hopelessly devoted to Clarke. Bellamy just needed the time to understand that his love for her was stronger than his faith in Cadogan and the disciples. Stronger than any of the Oak trees growing in this forest. Stronger than the Earth’s own magnetic field. There was no other powerful thing in this entire galaxy than love itself. That much he knew to be true. His love for her kept him alive. Kept him going. Kept him strong. They’re literally the last of humanity ,and when they die, the human race will vanish with them.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She shot him. Her best friend. He is all she can think about when they gather around the fire. “Clarke, are you sure you’re okay?”Raven asks worriedly. “Yes, I’m fine” Clarke replies back gravely. But the truth was, Clarke was not fine. Not even in the slightest. She was tired. She was alone. And she was so bitterly depressed about her circumstance she could barely see straight. 

“I just need to step away for a minute,” she responds. She made it almost ten yards before she threw up what was left in her stomach. Her best friend. He was her best friend. All she could think about was the look on his face before she shot him. She fell to her knees gasping for air and started intensely sobbing. She was clawing at the ground to stabilize herself. And then she was up and running. She was running so fast her quads began to burn from exertion, she chased down the outer rim of the valley, the spot where she would speak to him. She just needed to talk to him. Needed him. 

She finally comes to a complete stop at the edge of the cliff. Clarke is out of breath, her face is a smattering of red, and her breathing was staggered through her nostrils. Clarke peers into the vast expanse below her. All she would have to do is jump. Madi is fine. Her friends are fine. Nobody needs her. They would all be just fine. Nobody understands. Nobody can feel what she feels inside. They have not experienced the deep dark depths of her shattered soul and they don’t really know what she has gone through. Tragedy after tragedy. Lexa’s death, her mother’s death, Bellamy’s death at her own hands. She has lost so much. Too much. She can’t take it anymore. 

“I can’t do this anymore!” she wails. I can’t do this anymore Bellamy! Clarke shakily gets closer to the edge and looks down. This is it. She just needs to jump. It will all be over if she jumps.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Bellamy couldn’t sleep. The cavernous area he called home these past nights on Earth was extremely hot and downright stuffy. His sweat was sticking to his clammy skin. It was making his temperature and temper escalate. Bellamy decided enough was enough. He would take a stroll around the forest and get some air, cool off for a bit. As he approached the vast clearing that’s when he saw a shadow of something run past him. It was running at such a quick pace he wasn’t sure at first what he was really looking at. So he followed as fast as he could close behind to see what kind of animal that may have been. He actually needed more food. He was quite hungry. He started following the shadow with his knife, his stomach growling back in protest. 

When he finally made it to the edge of the vast clearing, Bellamy could sense that something was wrong. He realized the fast moving shadow was indeed Clarke. She was standing at the edge of the cliff looking down; rigid and tense. Her head was bowed and she was...just looking down at the ground as if..as if...no...no…..no no no no…NO! 

“Clarke!” He shouted as loud as he could. “STOP!” he rushed towards her at lighting speed. 

“Don’t you dare jump Princess! Turn around! Turn around Clarke!” Bellamy wailed as he ran faster towards her, his chest was burning from the exertion. His heart felt like shear fire in his chest. 

He could tell that she was whispering something to herself, a prayer, a saying, an affirmation. And then the front of her feet were moving that much closer to the edge, she had barely any footing left. The rocks were crumbling to the bottom of the canyon below. But before she could slip to her untimely death, he was there to grab her. 

With one arm outstretched Bellamy grasped the back of her jacket and pulled her weight backwards with all his strength. He was trying to slow down the speed of her falling form. He did his best to protect her skull from hitting the hard ground below. He was checking the back of her head to see if she was conscious or injured. “Clarke, what in the hell are you doing huh?” as he ran his hands up and down the sides of her temples. He was checking to see if she was bleeding anywhere. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he questioned furiously. 

Clarke slowly opened her eyes, “Bellamy?” she whispered squinting up into his face. She grumbled low, “Great, now I know I’m dead if you are here” she replied sarcastically. He chuckled lightly to himself. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I am not dead. You are not dead” he replied back convincingly. Bellamy was touching her face gently with the back of his fingertips. 

“Is it really you?” she was staring up into his eyes trying her best to get a read on his face. The sunlight was shining down illuminating the glow of her features. “It’s really you..isn’t it “ she finally said shakily. The realization hit her full force as she caressed his beard with her fingers. Bellamy closed his eyes at the brief contact. His beard was starting to grow back. His hair was a little longer from when Cadogan’s men forced him to cut it. 

“We are not dead Clarke...not yet...now come on…sit up for me” Bellamy promptly suggested. 

The thought of Clarke actually going through with killing herself was angering him by the second. Why would she give up so easily, after everything she had seen, done, and been through. He stood up slowly and reached down for her hand. He tugged her upright forcefully. When she was finally standing he embraced her in a bear hug so fierce the wind was knocked from her lungs. 

“Damn it Clarke, do I mean nothing to you?” he grumbled into her neck. Bellamy grabbed her hand roughly and placed it underneath his shirt. She could feel the raised skin where she had shot him. The deep purple incision where they had cut him open to save his life. 

“Do you feel that...huh? Feel that...I’m still here Clarke” he said solemnly. “When they asked me to decide if I wanted to transcend all I could think about was getting back to the woman who did this. To make it back here and force you to see what you had done, to acknowledge this decision head on. Clarke was staring at his shirt in disbelief, he was really here. She didn’t kill him. She may have killed ‘them’ in the process, but he was still alive. “I can’t believe you..actually....survived,” Clarke whispered. “Everyone I care about dies Bellamy,” she says unbelievably. 

“My sister told you it was hard to keep a Blake down,” Bellamy replies cheekily. She was looking at him with such reverence; with such longing and pain in her eyes it was making him nervously uneasy. 

“Why do I keep coming back for more of this Clarke? God why? Piercing her sorrow filled eyes with his own. “And then it hit me as I watched you sprint your way to the canyon edge, approach this dangerous cliff, you can’t even live with what you did can you?” he stated forcefully. “The decision is eating you alive Clarke” he whispered back firmly. But you don’t get to decide when to kill yourself! You hear me. You don’t get to decide how this ends for us. You are ALWAYS deciding!” Bellamy shouts directly in her face. He was so close she could feel the breath from his lips. 

Clarke was slowly losing it. Losing the control of her emotions, her actions, the whole nine yards. She can see it in his eyes that he is trying to rationalize and justify her actions when she couldn’t even do that herself. He wants truthful direct answers. She can see behind his dilated pupils that she has pushed him too far, their unspoken agreement obliterated. Whatever subtextual moment they shared long ago flying those lanterns in the sky was now over. He’s through tiptoeing around the truth. Done waiting for the woman too complicated, too stubborn, too broken to fix her own problems. She couldn’t admit how she really felt for him all these years. Bellamy is angry and seething with frustration. He is bitter and burning with it, and he might be a hypocrite but he quite likes holding something over her head, making her feel this pain. She deserves the pain. She deserves to feel this. In this moment he wants to make sure she doesn’t have all the power, make up excuses, stand here with the upper hand, treading all over his ripped out, smashed, and healing heart. 

With a hand to her own rapidly beating chest, she doesn't even feel her own touch on her trembling skin. Clarke stutters and repeats his words, not in confusion, just for herself. “It is eating me alive Bellamy, that is why I was going to just..end it all” she closes her eyes tightly. It slams into her harder than any bullet ever has or will again. The revelation that she shot him. Clarke shot the man who single handedly saved her life, her better half, all the good parts of herself she carelessly destroyed in an instant. She thought she had killed the one person who had made her feel entirely whole. 

Glowering towards her direction, he smiles wickedy in the most Bellamy like way. “You get that right? That I would have never..in my wildest dreams...ever done…” he shudders.The first visible reaction that he gives her is so painful beyond words, he curls his hands and fingers into fists to regain composure. “Did. YOU did. I have been with you every step of the way...I saved you...I continue to save you... you’re my best friend, I am so loyal to you! No one else Clarke. ME.” Bellamy forcefully proclaims. 

“How could you do that to me?” he asks remorsefully, holding back tears. “I’ve stood beside you, offered moral support, and strength during your darkest moments” he states. “You don’t get to sacrifice yourself now,” he whispers. “When you have sacrificed so much already Clarke, your inner well-being, physical body, and moral compass,” Bellamy explains calmly. 

His eyes close and he grits his teeth to force out the words, as if the admission is too much, agony, he swallows hard and forces himself to stand up straighter. His voice is a whisper when he coughs and looks away..blinking rapidly… “So how Clarke?” he pleads. 

He waits. When she says nothing- can say nothing around the cracking open of her own chest cavity at his confession Bellamy takes a large step backwards, unclenches his hands at his side and turns around. He starts walking back towards his shelter he’s called home this past week.  
He will not speak again until she has acknowledged it. He’s done making this easy for her and after everything that has transpired if this is how they end things, she will damn well take some responsibility for it. 

She is frozen with fear. Terrified. Not of him, never ever of him. But the anger in his voice, the bite, the kick, the brutal punch of every word he has uttered since he encountered her on this cliff. It scares her more than any person ever could, any choice before, any decision in life she has ever made. Bellamy is alive. He talks as if they are over before they have even begun. He speaks as if he expects her to respond when she just doesn’t know how. Words fail her, and the ice in her veins is matched only by the glacial stare reflected back at her from the man she loves. 

Loves. 

She Loves. 

It hits her all at once. 

Because she does, she does love him with whatever fucked up pieces of her unworthy heart are left to share. She does love him, even if he thinks otherwise. As soon as the word enters her mind and penetrates the thickened shell around her heart, her body is forced into action. 

It's not a conscious choice or decision, it's beyond that. The movement of her being is fundamental and crucial to her existence, elemental.

He is walking too fast ahead of her and she needs to catch up. She's never been one for words when action will suffice and running the distance between them is kind of like crossing a handful of land mines. It takes everything in her not to fall back at the hurt and hatred that he levels her with. She knows she deserves every single word. 

If this is it, if this is how it ends she wants to know what it feels like when he puts his hands on her. His skin under her lips and inside her. She wants to show him what he really means. What Bellamy has always meant to her. She needs to apologize for all that she has done. Every crime she has committed. 

“Bellamy wait....” she shouts in his direction but he is still moving at a brisk pace. Without a word or preamble she starts picking up the pace “Wait!” She yells. She finally reaches him near a large cavernous entrance with boulders on both sides. He turns around to face her. This cave was probably where he’s been hiding out for the past week. He levels her with an exasperated look. She is too close to be ignored and she pushes his shoulders back, reaches for his face with both hands and kisses him hard.  
Even if it means she's kissing him goodbye. When her fingers touch his skin his eyes widen and pain bursts through him like an untamed dam, seams splintering apart at the silken feel of her feather light touch. It's not fair, not fair at all that all he wants to do is reach for her and kiss her back when he's angry, when she offers him nothing but false hope and more heartache than he can bear. But if this is how it ends, then perhaps he can make sure she never forgets it. That she was the one who tore them apart, that it was she who threw away what they could have had together. She didn’t trust him and that’s what he’s most angry about. He would do anything for her. 

His eyes drop to her lips as she leans in. Just a little taste, to make damn sure she never forgets him.

“Bellamy”...she all but whispers.  
“I’m so sorry....I’m so sorry.. I don’t deserve to be alive…. I don’t deserve any of this! I don’t deserve you” she pleads. 

She doesn't close her eyes and neither does he. She doesn't flinch back or give an inch and neither does he. She doesn't wait for an invitation to take whatever she wants from his parted lips and neither does he. His reaction is immediate and hungry, not tentative but rough and rushed and perfect. His hands fist in her hair and he opens for her tongue, dives deep inside her kiss and refuses to come out.

“Clarke...how could you think ...” He pushes the halfway unbuttoned shirt off his arms and reaches for her wrists, “Look at this! Right here!” He wants to show her the damage she caused. He wants to show her what she’s done. He places her hands over his heart. Making her feel his raised scar. “Put this back together” he laments back at her fiercely. Her hands are shaking now feeling the deep wounds she has created. Gliding over his scar. She places her lips over his chest kissing the raised skin tenderly. “I will Bellamy..I promise...I will,” she says softly. She doesn’t have the answers. She has never had any answers. But one thing is for sure she will never hurt him again.  
Her hands are in his hair next, sliding to clutch his chest and when he uses all his weight to force her backwards on unsteady feet she has no choice but to grab hold of him, taking him with her, grunting at the shift in position. She lands heavily, her back sliding up the side of the rock formation making her whole body spasm in reaction and before she can think enough to breathe through that, his leg is slamming between her own and he's pulling her up against his chest, wiping her mind with the invasion of his tongue. “Put my heart back together Clarke....because you broke it ” he says forcefully grabbing her arms. 

She sucks his lip and he growls and retaliates, forcing his thigh higher so she's riding it, a frisson of pleasure so sharp she gasps into his mouth snapping through her body and centering to where his muscles are pushing hard between her legs. “I’m so hurt....so...overwhelmingly broken..” he growls.  
She bites and sucks at his bottom lip again and tastes blood, his or her she has no idea but her hand drops, slides awkwardly between them and she gropes him hard enough through his pants to make him gasp and she whimpers softly in response. 

Nothing between them is past tense.

She needs him to know that, know it as surely as he knows that she's angry too. That she's confused, that he's as stupid and ridiculous and out of control as she is.  
He groans when her hand closes around him, too big to be contained in her palm she runs her fingers along the length to gauge his size and her body quakes with knowledge, melting, she is suddenly nothing but liquid heat in his hands. She's burning with it, anger, pain, hurt, humiliation, need, desire everything, every emotion she has ever felt with this man is there like knives under her skin and she has to get her hands on him and make him feel it too.  
She thumbs open his zipper and snakes inside, her fingers circling as she reaches, the heated tip hot and moist under her touch and she widens her grasp to take him in hand, skin to skin.  
Bellamy growls, roughly kissing her as his nails dig into the skin of her wrists and he pulls her hands up from between them, slamming them into the rocks at her back.”I’m so outraged … so bitter...so god damn madly in love with you Clarke.” 

It drags her up onto the balls of her feet and she arches, desperate for his mouth and his body to be on her, she whimpers and groans and growls in frustration when he sinks his teeth into her neck, leaving a very visible mark but soothing the pain with his tongue. His hands cradle the back of her neck and he breathes her in as he licks the spot under her ear. "I need to hear the words leave your mouth” he utters intensely.

They hiss when they connect, smoke, sizzle and steam and he roughly pulls up her own shirt and breathes stilted breath into her mouth, running his tongue over her bottom lip as he's wanted to for years. “say it” he pushes his tongue further inside.  
Reaching his fingers up under the black swathe of material to palm her breast roughly, he kicks aside her feet and steps in as close as he can, with her hands high above her head. Rolling her nipple between his fingers finally makes her eyes close and she shudders from head to toe in reaction so violently that he wonders if she's come apart already from that simple touch. He kisses her, fills his hands with her soft skin and memorizes the weight of each breast in his palm. He thumbs her taut nipples until she's rocking back and forth on her heels, mimicking a movement they will soon make reality. He strips Clarke of her black jacket and kicks it aside.  
She lifts her leg and he releases her hands, both of them reaching between them to undo her pants. Their knuckles knock and brush past each other. The rough material makes its way down her legs and she steps out of the black pool at her feet, her hands on his hips shoving down his own pants. 

Her eyes are darker than he's ever seen them, possessed with desperation and anger, she's sad even as her skin comes to life and he knows exactly how she feels.  
They are not good and honest people at this moment, they are broken, hurt and wounded. They are not the false facade they wear every day and they are not warriors.  
Seeking something they fear they can never have, in each other's arms they are nothing more than human. Flawed, unforgiving and lost. “Please Clarke..tell me how much I mean to you...” Bellamy urges.  
He pushes aside her sodden underwear, drags them down her legs, fingers biting into her thighs, she groans and rocks and he takes her lead, lifting her so she can wrap her legs around his waist and he can slide inside her, one long stroke, through tight hot skin that brings them chest to chest and thrumming hard with pitiful pleasure.

He chokes her name at the feel of her and she whispers his back, the same tone of utter shock uniting them.  
Holding her up, with both hands cradling her hips and ass he can't angle her head and find her eyes but somehow she knows what he wants because she lifts up, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him hard.  
Her cheeks are an angry splash of red and heat billows from her, the way she clenches around him, swallows him up makes Bellamy feel like he's melting inside her and he thrusts roughly, shifts his knees to lift her higher and their eyes meet for the briefest second before he starts pounding into her.

“Arrgghhh... please Clarke..” Bellamy grunts in blinding pleasure. 

It's hard and fast and more than a little painful, with her back against the rocks and his nails digging into her skin. He's not small and he's not gentle and razor-blades of ecstatic pleasure cut through her body every time he slams into her, locking them both firmly in the present.  
She wraps her legs around him, tighter, groaning when he slides deeper and her nipples rasp across the front of his chest.She bites his name into his lip and surges up into him, squeezing around him hard so that he almost freezes on the angry growl that leaves him, only to slam into her harder and faster than before.The rocks behind her start to crumble and fall away in protest and she fists her hands in his hair, dragging his mouth down to her chest, her ankles lock at his back and balanced as she is she can finally snake a hand between them and touch herself.  
She's wet and slick and she can feel the grunt of movement under her hands when he pistons in and out of her, she pushes her hips further out to the side to make more room.  
She touches him and then herself, feels his teeth sink into her breast when she runs a wet finger over skin just shy of disappearing inside her.  
Her fingers are messy with arousal, sliding over herself, nails scraping and she throws her head back and moans his name when the electric snap and spark bursts through her like lightning.  
"Bellamy.” She moans again and her head thumps rhythmically against the rocks, fingers clutching his shoulder blades, hips snapping as she absorbs every bit of him.

“Look at me!" He demands and she fights to find control from somewhere deep inside, enough to lift her head and comply, allowing their eyes to meet and hold as he slides into her again and again.

With his mouth on her breast he feels her fingers working between her legs, the way she tightens and flutters around him warning him she's close and no way in hell is she gonna be riding him this hard with her head thrown back in delight when she comes. He wants to see it, to know her. To witness the way the orgasm crashes through her system. More than that he wants her to see him and watch the way he pours inside her, nothing between them and no escape.

She mumbles his name and writhes along the length of him, making him sink his teeth into her nipple, he sucks hard and she shudders and he soothes the marks he leaves with his teeth with the salve of his long, hot tongue, not wanting to ever hurt her. Never hurt her. He slams into her and calls her name, slides deep so that every cell is stimulated and caressed by them both. He does it again, hitching her legs higher and calling her name but her head remains back, her fingers holding his shoulder blades for dear life and she's so utterly lost in the feel of them she can hardly function.  
"Bell” She breathes and it's the most intimate sounding thing he has ever heard, his head lifting from her chest, to watch her face, his body sloppy now as they spiral towards completion. Sweat dripping from his brow. Higher and higher and each slide and slip of their bodies joined like this brings them a little closer to their end.

“Look at me Clarke.” He demands and she shakes her head, writhes, shimmies and quakes, "Clarke, right in my eyes, say it” his breathing labored.  
She shivers but her head lifts and his pace falters at the expression on her face, she's wanton and glorious, hair flying and matting on her sweat soaked skin, her lips are red and raw and her eyes glisten.  
If she cries there's no coming back for him. “Tell me... please.... tell me” Bellamy all but pleads into her skin. Finally she can’t hold on to the secret any longer.  
“I love you Bellamy... I'm in love with you... I’m so sorry.... I’m so in love with you...soooo. ssssoooooo..” she moans roughly.

Their pupils lock as she breaks apart and he dives forwards to feast on her mouth, stealing the murmurs and the moans straight from her tongue as he sucks it into his own. She doesn't close her eyes and neither does he. He keeps on, demanding she shatter apart further and more with each thundering surge of his hips and he stares into her intently watching as each ripple of her orgasm washes through her. She tightens around him, her grip like a vice only to intensify with each hold and release, hold and release, a tugging caress from deep inside a demand that he follow her over the edge.

He holds off as long as he can to pull her through pleasure so intensely that she digs her nails into his skin and drags them over him. She moans loudly in the shell of his ear.  
Her movements cease between them and he reaches for her hands once again, entwining their fingers and dragging them up above her head, holding her hard against the smooth formation pushing in desperately to draw out that last screaming ache of agonized joy before he spills into her.

Their mouths come apart as they fight to breathe and he slams hard, the enclosed space nothing more than an echoed force of their hips in motion. The thunder of their passion rolling through the woods for all to hear.

His voice is a roar in her ear as he comes. Her body splintering apart with each hot burst, breaking at the seams as she fights to contain him and she shudders, she's never felt anything like this in all her life.

It's sex in the rawest form imaginable, pleasure ancient and unknown and she draws it out as long as she can, clinging to his hands as he holds them apart from their bodies, rotating her hips and lifting her legs to take him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust until she's coming apart again.  
It blisters like fire, it burns, it hurts, it scalds. It feels so good and it's almost over.  
He slumps into her and she wraps her arms around him, body a hollowed out shell of pleasure and she strokes a hand down his back, lifts his chin and makes him kiss her.

She holds on because she knows it's nearly over, nearly done, and any second now he'll leave and she's terrified of what comes after that. How much more of themselves and each other they have left to lose.

Her feet land on the floor and he steps back from her, sliding out of her body and touching his softening skin with his own fingers to feel the remnants of her enjoyment quickly drying over him.  
She watches his movements, the way he appears mesmerized by it, and her eyes dart up guiltily to meet his, too many unsaid words between them and her mouth opens to offer up more.  
Bellamy bends down and hands her the black shirt, stepping back to give her space as he grabs his pants and starts to finally re-dress himself.  
He picks up her own and falters as he holds them out to her to step her feet inside. He shimmies them up her thighs and lets out a deep sigh. “You’re forgiven Clarke” Bellamy states. 

Clarke doesn’t quite know what to say. 

“We will find a way alright” he smiles timidly, “You and I always find a way.” 

Clarke looks back at him with mercy but also downright shame in her eyes. “ I don’t deserve happiness Bellamy,” she says. Looking at him earnestly and so full of love he can’t take it. 

“We’ll that’s just too damn bad because my heart won’t survive without you” he rasps. “You’re the only religion I will follow from here on out..... hear me” he states firmly.  
Her eyes glisten, blue as the ocean with green and gold flecks running through, red hot like coals and burning furnace-bright, the fire long since started and she whimpers letting it consume her, until she's reaching for him. 

"You almost lost me Clarke...but I just couldn’t leave you..you’re what I live for..this fucking annoyingly beautiful and savage head of yours” he grabs her skull and cradles the sides of her temples in his hands. She kisses him, fierce and hard, her teeth nipping at his skin, making him hiss just so she can soothe the moans and growls with her tongue, every little bit of it packed with urgency and the desperation to forgive each other. It's messy and real and his hands fist in her hair, he kisses her forehead and she lets out a long overdue sigh... her nose finding her safe spot in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you so much Bellamy, ” Clarke whispers. 

Her home is with him. It always has been. 

They are finally at peace. They would figure the rest out, forgiving one another until their time was up. Together.


End file.
